Gilder nodded, and Arthur Gine turned over the papers idly.

“There is going to be trouble if they give judgment against you for some of these,” said Gilder. “Up to now I’ve managed to keep them out of court, but there are at least three of these which must be paid. I haven’t had a chance of speaking to you since I came back from my holidays. Did you lose much at Goodwood?”

“Eight or nine thousand,” said Arthur Gine lightly. “It may have been more or less.”

“That means you don’t know because you haven’t paid,” said Gilder bluntly.

“I paid a few – the more pressing,” the other hastened to assure him. “What are these?”

He fingered the writs again with his beautifully manicured hand.

“One of them is very serious indeed,” said Gilder, picking it out from the rest. “The trustees of the Wellman estate are suing you for three thousand pounds – the loan you had from Wellman.”

“Can’t you fix them?”

Gilder shook his head.

“I can’t fix trustees – you know that. This is going to look ugly if it comes into court.”

Arthur Gine shrugged his shoulders.

“There is nothing ugly about a loan–”

“You were Wellman’s lawyer,” interrupted Gilder.

“And he was not capable of managing his affairs. I tell you that will look ugly, and the Law Society will be asking questions. You’ll have to raise money to settle this case out of court.”

“What are the others?” asked Arthur Gine sulkily.

“There’s one for twelve hundred pounds, furniture supplied to Willow House, and another from the vendor of Willow House for balance of purchase-money unpaid.”

Arthur Gine leaned back in his chair, took out a gold toothpick and chewed it.

“What is the full amount?”

“About six thousand pounds,” said Gilder, gathering up the writs. “Can’t you raise it?”

His employer shook his head.

“A bill?”

“Who is going to back it?” asked the lawyer, looking up.

Gilder scratched his chin.

“What about Lord Chelford?” he asked.

7

Arthur Gine laughed softly.

“And what do you imagine Chelford would say if I went to him with such a proposal? You seem to forget, my dear fellow, that to Chelford I am the brother of a young lady who on her twenty-fifth birthday inherits the greater part of a million pounds. I’m not only the brother, but I am her trustee. Besides which, I am managing his mother’s estate. What would he think if I tried? Chelford’s a fool, but he’s not such a fool as that, and I would remind you that all his business affairs are in the hands of the Second Son.”

“You mean Alford – why do you call him that?”